


Beautiful Friend

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Challenge: MMOM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A camping trip takes an interesting turn.<br/>Sequel to Every Frivolous Whim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Friend

May 14, 1997. An answer to the Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge. 

(Standard, all-purpose disclaimer) All pre-existing characters are the property of the creators and producers of "The Sentinel." No copyright infringement is intended. All new characters and situations are the sole property and responsibility of the author. 

Rated R for m/m content. 

## Beautiful Friend

by Katrina Bowen  
PROLOGUE  


> __  
> Now it's time for my tale to conclude  
>  As we test Jim and Blair's aptitude...  
> Not just for each  
> Solo pleasure to reach,  
> But to engage in a dual interlude.  
> 

  


Jim sighed and stared at the roof of the tent. He heard the patter of raindrops falling in what should have been a soothing rhythm. He heard a low, distant roll of thunder. He heard the quiet, hushed sounds of the forest at night. On top of it all, he heard Blair pretending rather obviously to be asleep. 

Rolling over to his side, Jim propped himself up on one elbow. "Chief." There was a slight hitch in Blair's slow breathing, and his heart rate increased fractionally, but that was his only reaction. Jim closed his eyes in mild exasperation. "Knock it off, Sandburg, you're as awake as I am." 

Blair sighed and opened his eyes, but Jim knew he'd barely be able to see in this dim light. "Definitely *not* one of the good things about rooming with a sentinel. A guy can't even pretend to be asleep if he wants," he grumbled. "Where do I go if I wanna complain about this?" 

"Sorry, kid. You're strictly non-union labor, and I'm the only grievance committee you're going to get." Jim stretched and sat up. Unlike Blair, he had no difficulty in seeing his friend clearly. Blair was curled up on his side, cuddled deep within his sleeping bag, hair tumbling over his face. He raised one hand to push it away and let his fingers thread absently through the long strands. 

Knowing that his observation would be unobserved, Jim let himself drink in the sight of Blair, tousled and tired, his long curls determined to throw themselves every which way -- oh, Jim knew exactly how that hair would feel in his hands, twisted around his fingers, then released and allowed to spread itself over the pillow as Jim found other, more interesting places for his hands -- 

"Well?" Blair demanded peevishly. 

"Well, what?" 

"Well, are we both supposed to sit up all night, staring at each other and not sleeping?" 

Jim lowered himself back to the ground. "Good night, Sandburg." But he kept his eyes open. 

Sighing in the manner of one expected to endure unimaginable idiocy, Blair settled onto his back. Grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes, he began breathing deeply, slowly, each breath going directly to the bottom of his lungs, and then easing out again, draining all the tension from his body with each exhalation. Jim knew exactly what he was doing, as he'd been trying the same thing all night. And Blair didn't seem to be having any more success with it than Jim had. 

As he watched Blair, Jim let his own breathing match the rhythm the other man was setting for himself. It wasn't much, but imagined intimacy was surely better than none at all. 

Blair's hands fell away from his face and his head rolled to the side, facing Jim. The sentinel forced himself to keep breathing as Blair eased one hand into his sleeping bag. Even through the thick padding, Jim had no difficulty tracking the hand as it traveled over Blair's chest, paused briefly, then continued carefully downward. 

Jim turned over loudly, wishing that he knew how to fake a snore. Blair hesitated for a long moment. Then Jim heard the brush of fingers against cloth, and he knew that he wasn't any part of what was happening on the other side of the tent. Not wanting to catch even the slightest hints of Blair's arousal -- knowing that would be his undoing -- he turned down the dial on his sense of smell. **God. How the hell do I get out of here without Sandburg catching on?** It was hard enough to have to listen to Blair masturbate back at the loft, with the safe insulation of floors and doors between them. Here, within the confines of the tent, trapped by a cage made of Blair's scent, his heartbeat and breathing and warmth... it was intolerable. 

A sudden rustling on the other side of the tent caught his attention. In spite of his best intentions, Jim rolled over. "Sandburg?" 

Blair looked up from fumbling his clothes on. "Yeah, man, I'm just... you know. I'm just heading outside for a few minutes." He stepped into his shoes but didn't bother to tie them. 

"It's raining -- " On cue, the tent was briefly illuminated by a flash of lightning. 

"Really." Grabbing his jacket and a flashlight, Blair stood up and started groping his way out of the tent. "I'm so glad you're here to tell me these things, Mr. Wilderness Survival Expert. I never could have figured that out on my own." 

Jim tried to think of something to say, something to keep Blair from going out in the cold, wet night, but the other man was gone before he could come up with anything remotely convincing. **Come up with something? Funny, Ellison. Yeah, how about, 'Oh, that's all right, Sandburg. Go right ahead. Carry on. You just jack off in your sleeping bag, pretend I'm not even here.' That'd go over *real* well, wouldn't it?** 

The rain started coming down harder. Jim looked at the door of the tent. Looked like he had two choices, and he didn't like either one. He *could* just stay where he was, and wait for a cold, wet, dripping Blair to come back from his excursion, dignity intact but probably with the beginnings of a cold. Or, to examine the other choice, Jim could follow the younger man to wherever he'd decided to go and tell him to get his ass back in the tent, dignity be damned. **Hardly the way to win him over.** And then Jim remembered Blair's earlier joke about bear traps. Ridiculous. There weren't any bear traps around here, there weren't any *bears* for God's sake -- there was no way even Sandburg could get himself into any trouble -- Jim definitely didn't see anything good that would come out of both of them getting wet.... 

Not quite believing he was going to do it, Jim sat up and reached for his clothes.   
  


* * *

Blair squirmed a little, trying to find a comfortable spot on the log he was sitting on. Not even thoughts of Joel Taggart were having any effect on his hard-on, and, given their close quarters, Blair didn't really want to go back into the tent smelling of semen. Not when Jim would be able to sense it, and ask embarrassing questions ("Hey, Chief, you got a ladyfriend stashed away in the next clearing? Or did you just find yourself a friendly woodchuck?") that could only lead to even more embarrassing answers. Sure, obfuscating was one of his major life skills, but Blair was cold, wet, and horny, and there was no way he'd be able to come up with a sustainable lie under those circumstances. 

**Why Jim? How come I can't stop thinking about him all of a sudden?** Blair thought morosely. **Like the guy's ever had a gay thought in his life.** A trickle of rainwater made its way down his spine, through the layers of shirts and jackets. "Ahhhh, geez." Wriggling a little, he tried to pluck his wet shirt away from his only slightly drier skin. **Should have brought a raincoat. And a hat. Maybe an umbrella. Whatever the well-dressed masturbator wears to jack off in the rain.... Oh, shit. This is stupid, Jim's asleep by now, what the hell am I doing out here?** 

Standing up, Blair wrung some of the water from his hair and turned to head back to the campsite. **Great. Now it stops raining.** Half- blinded by his wet hair, he walked straight into a large, unyielding obstacle. Blair jerked away instinctively, only to lose his footing on the muddy ground. **What the *hell* was that?** 

Then the "what the *hell*" sighed and hunkered down next to him. "Sandburg, you mind telling me what's up with you?" 

Blair glowered at Jim. **Great. Now I'm cold, wet, horny, humiliated, *and* I've got a muddy ass. Yeah, *this* has been a fun- filled romp in the woods.** Aloud, he said, "Nothing's up with me. And what the hell do you think you're doing, skulking around in the middle of the night?" He ignored the hand Jim extended and scrambled to his feet. 

"I thought I was looking for you. This isn't the best time to go for a walk, in case you hadn't noticed. And it's almost morning, you've been out here a long time." Jim got to his feet as well. 

"Thanks for filling me in." Trying to salvage his dignity (**Good one, Blair. You're about twenty-four hours too late for that**), Blair stalked away. 

Jim grabbed his shoulder. "Sandburg -- the tent's over...." Jim trailed off at the expression on Blair's face. "Blair, would you just tell me what's bothering you?" 

"Bothering me?" Blair began waving his arms around. "Like you really need to ask me that, man? First you get out of bed, and you walk around in the shower and expect me to help load the truck -- which, considering the state I was in, wasn't the best idea you ever had -- and frankly, not even Joel Taggart is helping right now, and it's all your fault, damn it!" Blair came to a halt and glared up at Jim. "Well? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" 

Jim opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, then opened it again. He finally shook his head. "Did that make any sense to you? Because I sure didn't understand a word." 

Blair stared up at him; the sun was just starting to come up, and even with the veil of clouds, it was finally bright enough for Blair to be able to see Jim's face. Whatever he'd been planning on saying (and not even he was sure what that was going to be) faded. Jim was looking down at him, impatient and exasperated and worried and... well, hell. Imagine that. 

"Blair?" 

"Jim, could you do me a favor?" 

The answer came instantly. "Anything." 

"Shut up." And with that, Blair reached up and grabbed Jim's neck. Startled, Jim let himself be pulled down to Blair's level. Astonished, he let Blair press close to him. And, to the surprised pleasure of both men, he let Blair kiss him. 

He let Blair take the lead in that first kiss; as the smaller man pulled away, Jim drew him back and initiated the second. He raised one hand to cradle the back of Blair's skull, as his other hand trailed down Blair's body, skimming lightly along the wet jacket, coming to rest lightly on -- Jim broke the kiss. 

Blair looked up at him, eyes tragic with loss and heartbreak and uncertainty. "Jim?" he asked in a tiny voice. 

Jim smiled. "No offense, Chief, but you're a mess. I think I'd better get you out of those muddy clothes." 

"Yeah." Blair's face split into a relieved grin. He grabbed Jim's hand. "Come on --" 

"Uh-uh." Jim didn't move as he reeled Blair back to his arms. "I don't want to wait that long. And I don't want the sleeping bags getting dirty." 

Blair nodded. "Sure. But isn't it kind of cold out here?" He brushed his fingertips against Jim's erection. As he pulled the zipper of the other's jeans down with agonizing slowness, he grinned. "Of course, it looks like you're hot enough for both of us." 

"I guess I'd better get you warmed up, then." Jim began deftly unbuttoning Blair's shirt as he bent his head to nuzzle along Blair's jaw. "You need a shave, baby," he murmured against the pulse in Blair's throat. Blair gasped something incoherent in reply. 

Stripping off Blair's jacket and shirt in one movement, Jim yanked off the undershirt as well. Pushing him back against a tree, he pushed down Blair's jeans and underwear. Somehow Blair managed to kick free of them and his shoes at the same time; as he launched himself into Jim's arms, the taller man gently held him away. "No. I want to look at you. I've waited long enough for you, give me this." Jim ran his eyes up and down Blair's body. The glances he'd stolen, the bits and pieces he'd put together -- the reality was so much more breathtaking. 

"I'll give you anything." Caught by the naked need and honesty in his guide's voice, Jim jerked his gaze back up to Blair's face. 

"Will you." It wasn't a question, and it required no answer. Reaching out carefully, Jim rested his hands on Blair's waist. "Will you." He ran his hands up the narrow torso, fingers pausing to tweak at the curls on the other's chest. "Will you." He pressed his palms against Blair's nipples, hard and erect from the cold and desire. 

Blair still didn't answer. He just kept on staring at Jim, eyes going dark and lustful. He made no move to return Jim's caresses. 

"Turn around." Blair obeyed instantly, bracing his hands against the trunk of the tree. Jim pulled his erect cock out of his jeans and rubbed against Blair's back. He cupped his hands briefly against the sweet ass pressing against him, then moved one hand around to carefully clasp Blair's erection. Blair gasped and rested his forehead against the tree. 

Jim bent his head down and flicked his tongue against Blair's earlobe. The velvety skin, achingly soft and fragile, encased in the cold metal hoops.... Catching one of the small rings with his teeth, Jim tugged gently. Releasing it, he growled, "Is this what you want from me?" He tightened his grip on Blair's cock and, with his other hand, continued stroking Blair's ass. The smaller man groaned in response, thrusting back against Jim's chest. 

"Tell me," Jim whispered urgently. "Is this what you want?" Jim felt Blair's breath catch in his throat. Finally, he nodded. Jim buried his head in the side of Blair's neck, sucking at the soft flesh. At the same time, he started grinding his erection into the small of Blair's back. Blair started bucking furiously into Jim's hand; his body tensed, trembled, and he came with a strangled whimper. 

As he felt his partner's legs begin to shake, Jim increased the pace of his movements. After a moment, Blair began to move in time with him. He still made no move to touch Jim, but he started to rotate his hips in counterpoint to Jim's thrusts. Spinning him around, Jim brought his lips down to meet Blair's just as his own orgasm came. He muffled the cry that erupted from him in Blair's warm, welcoming mouth. 

Blair wrapped his arms around Jim's waist and clasped the larger man close, burying his head against the broad chest. "Mmmmm." He wriggled closer to Jim, trying to recapture the warmth they'd just created between them, already starting to dissipate. "I think we should have talked about this a long time ago, big guy." 

Jim tilted Blair's head up for another kiss. This one was slow and deep and full of promises. "Look at it this way. We're going to have a lot of fun playing catch-up." 

"Yeah...." Blair sighed. Shivering, he bent down and started gathering his clothes. "Come on, Jim. I *really* want to get warm." 

"Good thing we have two sleeping bags to keep you warm, right?" Jim plucked the clothes out of Blair's arms and steered him toward the path leading to their tent. "Because I was serious about not wanting these dirty clothes in the tents...."   
  
EPILOGUE   


> __  
> This masturbation tale is complete,  
>  As the guys had themselves a nice treat.  
> My story's been spun --  
> And wasn't it fun?  
> If you don't agree, hit "delete."  
> 

* * *

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